


Resonance

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: neighborhood, M/M, Series: Three Rs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into Blair's thoughts.<br/>This story is a sequel to Reverb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonance

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This part takes place after the events of 

## Resonance

by JM Griffin

Author's disclaimer: Hmmm, let's see. I don't own them. I'd love to. I don't make any money off them. I don't want to. Does that cover it?   


Neighborhood Watch and just before Night Shift. 

* * *

"Blair, sweetie, are you there? Pick up if you're there, son." 

Blair groaned and reached out of his nest of blankets for the phone. "Mom?" He pulled his arm back into his cocoon as far as he could and still keep the phone to his ear. 

"Blair," Naomi Sandburg said sharply. "Are you all right? I mean, are you _seriously_ all right? I've got this funny feeling, sweetie, that something bad is happening to you and I can't seem to shake..." 

"Hey," Blair cut in to his mother's harangue. "Aren't you in India?' 

Naomi sighed, "Yes dear, but that doesn't mean..." 

It was Blair's turn to sigh. "I'm fine, Naomi." 

"Son..." 

"What's with this 'son' thing? I'm fine, I promise. There's nothing even remotely wrong happening here. I am fine," he repeated, but his thoughts were otherwise. * _Then why do I feel like crying? Why am I huddled in a blanket on the couch on a fine - okay, damp and cool, but otherwise fine - spring day_ * 

"I'd like to believe you, Blair, but I just can't." Naomi said matter-of-factly. "Besides, you don't sound fine. You sound sad." 

"I don't want to talk about it." Internally Blair groaned. * _Why on earth did I say that? Now she'll never let up_ * 

Sure enough Naomi pounced. "I _knew_ there was something wrong. Where's Jim today? Did the two of you have an argument? What are you doing at home all alone on a Saturday afternoon? Come on, Blair honey. Spill it." 

"No, Mom. Jim and I did not have an argument." He did not say: I haven't seen Jim for more that a few minutes this entire week. How could we have had a fight? 

"Blair." 

"Naomi." 

Sometimes the woman knew when to quit. "Okay Blair, I hear you. But I'm going to call again in a few days. So work through it, whatever it is, okay sweetie? And plan on telling me the next time I call. That's what mothers are for." 

"Bye Mom, I love you." 

There were simply some things you just didn't tell your mother, Blair thought as he hung up the phone. Things better left unsaid no matter how enlightened said mother might be. Things such as "Mom, I'm in love with my very straight, very macho, cop roommate. So deeply in love, it's a physical ache. The mere thought of touching his body makes me hard." 

No, there were certain things a man did not say to his mother, no matter how liberal she professed to be. 

Not that Naomi didn't like Jim. She did. She had even stopped referring to him as a 'pig.' But somehow Blair didn't think she was up to any admissions of love on her son's part. Besides, he needed to tell Jim first. 

Blair snorted in derision. Yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon. When exactly was the right time to tell your hetero roomie that you were crazy in lust with him? Blair chewed on a rough patch by his thumbnail as he pondered this one. He pictured himself telling Jim Ellison, his Sentinel and doctoral research project, that he, Blair Sandburg, anthropology teaching fellow and Guide, loved him. 

Okay, so where would he tell him? Here in the loft? Or maybe in the truck? Try as he might, Blair just couldn't picture it. He couldn't get his mind around that scenario. Not like..., not like some other scenarios he had pictured between himself and Jim. 

Sighing, Blair cast the blanket to the floor and got up and walked to the balcony windows. He was hungry; he was tired; he was antsy. He was horny as hell. Shit. He couldn't stand much more of this. He didn't want to, but maybe he ought to consider moving out of the loft. 

Blair sighed at the thought, then looked his over shoulder to where his laptop sat open and waiting on the big table. It was time to stop angsting. Time to finish up that introductory chapter of his dissertation if he was going to submit it for peer review in a couple of days. With another sigh, Blair plodded over to the table and plunked down in front of his computer and settled in to work. Ten minutes later, having added nary a coherent word to the screen, he put his head down and closed his eyes. In seconds, he was asleep. 

//In the dream, Jim sat at his desk at the station, looking tired and tense. The big, buff cop scrubbed at his face. "You ever have one of those times where," Jim paused and looked directly at Blair, "with a woman, ya know, if things had turned out differently, she could have been the one?" 

"Not really," Blair answered nonchalantly, "that is, not with a woman. With a _man_ now, yes." Then he just leaned over and planted one on Jim. And his best friend, partner, love of his life, kissed back, responding with a passion that took Blair's breath away. 

In his dream, he gasped.// 

In real life, he woke up with a sob. 

* * *

End Resonance. 


End file.
